"And we jumped over the wall and right down into the sheep, and they made an awful fuss they were so scared too, huddling and rushing round to get out--" "Then we found the gate--" "But I _heard_ him--" Dulcie's eyes were very big and bright with remembered terror. "And then we climbed over the gate--'Lias had locked it--and run home lickety-split and most run into Luigi at the bridge--" "'Coz we come down the road after we got through the last pasture--" "Oh, he was so big!" Doosie shuddered as her imagination began to work more vigorously with the recital--"bigger'n a man--" "What nonsense." The twins had been telling all this at the same time, and their mother's common sense and downright exclamation brought them to a full stop. They looked crestfallen. "You needn't tell me there's a bear between here and Moosehead--I know better. Did you tell Luigi all this?" she questioned sharply. The two nodded affirmatively. "And he told you not to tell me?" Another nod. "Did he say anything more?" "He said he'd go up and see." "Hm--m--" Mrs. Caukins turned a rather white face to Aileen; the two, looking into each other's eyes, read there a common fear. "Perhaps you'll take the jelly over for me, Aileen; I'll just step to the back door and holler to 'Lias to bring in the collie and the hound--'t isn't always safe to let the dogs out after dark if there _should_ happen to be anything stirring in the quarry woods." "I'll go," said Aileen. She went into the pantry to get the glass of jelly. "We'll go with you, we won't mind a bit with you or Luigi," chorussed the twins. "You don't go one step," said their mother, entering at that moment from the kitchen, and followed by the two dogs; "you'll stay right where you are, and what's more, you'll both go to bed early to make you remember that I mean what I say about your being out so long another time after sundown--no good comes of it," she muttered. The twins knew by the tone of her voice that there was no further appeal to be made. "You can wash up the dishes while Aileen's gone; my head is so bad.--Don't be gone too long, Aileen," she said, going to the door with her. "I sha'n't stay unless I can do something--but I'll stop a little while with Ellen, poor girl; she must be tired of all this excitement, sitting there alone so much as she has this last week." "Of course, but Aurora won't see you; it's as much as ever I can do to get a look at her, and as to speaking a word of comfort, it's out of the question.--Why!" she exclaimed, looking out into the dusk that was settling into night, "they never light the quarries so early, not with all the arc-lights, I wonder--Oh, Aileen!" she cried, as the meaning of the great illumination in The Gore dawned upon her. The girl did not answer. She ran down the road to the bridge with every nerve in her strained to its utmost. XIV